


we're frozen in time like an endless dream

by haikyuutrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Happy Ending, I hope, Light Angst, M/M, Short & Sweet, highkey inspired by a song i heard, kuroo is in college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikyuutrash/pseuds/haikyuutrash
Summary: “Kenma,” he finally said, his voice coming out in a quiet breath. His fingernails dug into his palm, sending a mild pain through his skin. But even pain as minimal as such was enough to tell him that he wasn’t dreaming, that as much as a surreal feel his thoughts would throw him into every time he got the chance to sit down in peace, this was real. He could virtually feel time slowing around them, the word becoming silent.###After Kuroo leaves for college, he meets Kenma again after seven months. Things are different, but some still stay the same.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Kudos: 60





	we're frozen in time like an endless dream

**Author's Note:**

> hAHDLBJKAGUDHS this is basically the result of my friend introducing me to this song ([Silence by n-buna, Sarah Furukawa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1K-ZD2bB8M)) and i ended up looping it and came up with this
> 
> it's not as long as my usual fics but,,,,i still hope you enjoy it UwU
> 
> on another note.................
> 
> HAIKYUU'S MANGA IS ENDING AND I'M NOT READY AAAAAAA ICE CREAM AND BLANKETS HERE I COME

The last time he saw Kenma was half a year ago. Seven months to be exact, since they’d parted at the station and Kuroo had looked out the window, his eye contact with Kenma being broken by a passing train. The last moments they’d had before he’d been taken over by college life, always reaching for his phone and then withdrawing his hand as another stack of papers would be slammed onto his desk. Countless nights spent sleep-deprived, with all-nighters become something he’d feel strange without. He’d stared thoughtlessly into the sky before, time and again, remembering what it’d be like if he could go back to the past, when things were a lot less hectic.

College gave the impression of being a new chapter. Even if it were only a quarter or less of what he hoped his life would be, it felt like the majority of his life had passed. The memories of his childhood seemed foggy, past the bits and pieces he could string together. It was as if they’d slowly faded in detail, every moment he’d spent with Kenma being an image in the database that his memory was. Thinking about it gave him some sort of mixed feeling, as if something was tugging at his heart, reminding him that each second that passed was a second less of his life.

It lingered close to being a mystery, of how things felt so different then and now, and how they would only change even more. His mind would sometimes drift to the future, wondering how he’d be like in a few years or more. Would what he had now become nothing more than a figment of the past? He could feel the eye bags under his eyes, a result of many lost hours of sleep, as he continued to stare forward, his eyes locked with the golden ones returning his gaze.

“Kenma,” he finally said, his voice coming out in a quiet breath. His fingernails dug into his palm, sending a mild pain through his skin. But even pain as minimal as such was enough to tell him that he wasn’t dreaming, that as much as a surreal feel his thoughts would throw him into every time he got the chance to sit down in peace, this was _real_. He could virtually feel time slowing around them, the word becoming silent.

It’d been no more than seven months since they’d met. Yet, Kenma didn’t seem the same anymore. He looked like he’d grown up a little, and he had. But knowing that unlike the years before, he hadn’t watched the days passing with his best friend by his side, it was more noticeable. Kuroo bit down on his lip, but even as he could feel small amounts of blood flowing in his mouth, he was numb to the taste and to the drying feeling it had inside him. For some reason that he couldn’t put his finger on, seeing Kenma again made his heart ache. or maybe, it wasn’t seeing him, but seeing how he’d _changed_ in the months that’d passed, and knowing that he hadn’t been there to watch.

Kuroo brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes, some that had grown longer and he hadn’t gotten the time to get a haircut to trim. “It’s been...so long,” he said softly, smiling in an almost sad way. “How have you been?”

He could feel the wind blowing gently against his body and the rare snowflakes around landing on his clothes and the ground below as well. Tugging his winter jacket tighter over his shoulders, the fur lining the hood brushing lightly on his neck, Kuroo had the urge to take a step forward, _closer_ , but he couldn’t seem to get himself to move.

Finally, Kenma let out a sigh, distinctive from the small cloud of mist that formed temporarily in front of his mouth, dissipating into the air afterwards. “...Kuro.” The college freshman felt a shudder through his body, at how the words sounded so familiar yet foreign on the other’s tongue. “I’ve been good.” If Kuroo had paid enough attention, which he did, he’d have noticed that the younger male was fiddling mindlessly with the loose thread at the bottom of his track jacket.

 _A habit of his,_ Kuroo noted, and even after they’d been separated for months, he hadn’t forgotten. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he found enough of his voice to say. It was almost movie-like that they stood a few feet apart, neither budging to close the gap. _Almost like a love story,_ Kuroo thought, then beat himself up internally for even letting that thought exist long enough to realise it. He smiled, a false pretence over layers of mixed feelings.

Kenma took a few steps forward, at last removing whatever tension had been between them. “We’re on winter break,” he explained, sounding a little uncertain of himself for reasons that he made unknown. “I thought...since we hadn’t seen each other in so long...” His voice trailed off, though his intentions remained clear. It wasn’t like him to say such sappy things, or sappy by Kenma’s standards. Maybe, that was the work of time.

The older male felt his body relax, snapping himself out of his trance. “Yeah, we could spend the day together, take a walk around the area...that is, if you’d like to.” He left the offer hanging in the air, taking a sharp breath. It was unusual of him to be feeling this worry, that Kenma wouldn’t agree to what he’d said. Now that he thought about it, when they’d both been in high school, he’d always been dragging the second year around. Still, Kenma had never once said anything about it, at least as far as Kuroo could recall.

But maybe he’d been worried for nothing after all. Like it was the most natural thing, Kenma nodded, adjusting his jacket slightly before looking expectantly at Kuroo, seemingly asking where they were headed. When they’d gone around before, it’d always been the former captain making the decisions, with Kenma tagging along and often being absorbed in his game consoles. Speaking of which, Kuroo found that he hadn’t seen said console yet, which was at the very least, unexpected.

“You decide,” Kuroo said in a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in. As though he hadn’t been clear enough, he continued, “You decide, where we should go.” His hands subconsciously went into his pockets, feeling the warmth inside as contrasted to the low temperatures in the open.

There was a moment of silence again, yet no sort of awkwardness beneath it. “The park, then,” Kenma eventually said. “I saw one on the way here and it looked like a good place to relax and...catch up.” Kuroo swore he saw the setter smile, as small a smile as it was.

For a moment so brief Kuroo could’ve imagined it all, the months hadn’t made a difference. As he walked with Kenma next to him, the two of them headed to the park a kilometre away, there was a dream-like flutter in his chest, making this feel like a part of a story. His footsteps were light, nearly so much that he couldn’t feel his weight on the ground. It sounded crazy when he’d describe this out loud, but that sensation was no longer a stranger to him after the times he’d just gazed into the night sky and watched the flickering stars, wondering if Kenma was staring at it too.

As they walked, the soles of his shoes kicked at the loose rocks on the pavement at intervals, sending them rolling to the sides. “How’s it been for you?” he asked after a few minutes, breaking the ice between the two of them. “I haven’t gotten the chance to speak to you in... _forever_.” It wasn’t a literal estimate of the time they’d spent away, of course. But to Kuroo, it felt like that was the true duration of it.

“It feels different without you,” Kenma commented, staring down at the ground as they continued to walk, though making mindless turns in the right direction to the park. “I’m used to you being the captain, and while Tora is a great leader...it’s not the same as you.” He stopped at that, an unsaid refusal to elaborate. Perhaps it wasn’t the capability of the position, but the person and the personal connections that were making Kenma feel this way.

Kuroo exhaled in a loud breath, practically like he was relenting to the circumstances of now, that everything had changed and wouldn’t be transformed back to the past easily. “Well, let’s put it this way,” he said, his words possibly coming out harsher than he’d intended for them to, though it didn’t seem to affect Kenma, “things have to change sometimes.”

“...Like us?” Kenma asked, much unexpectedly.

Yet, Kuroo couldn’t find any words to respond, other than a quiet ‘yeah’. And even then, he didn’t know what he meant. Was he already acknowledging this? That despite being Kenma’s best friend, hopefully, for nearly ten years or more, they’d drifted apart after seven months? To put it that way, time was a strange thing. It took years to connect, but only months to separate. There was something both peculiar and disappointing about that.

The wind blew against them, causing Kuroo’s hair to fly into a mess. Looking around after brushing the strands that's gotten into the way out of his line of sight, the college freshman found that they’d arrived at the park. Not at the entrance he’d thought of, but it was still a route in. “In here,” he told Kenma, who followed as he stepped past the metal gate that was designed for the area, which had been almost completely taken over by overgrown weeds. In this part of the park where few ventured to, it was quieter, and more peaceful as well.

Kuroo did wonder why the crowds preferred to stay at the open field, where families would gather to have picnics, leaving little empty space. Nonetheless, being in what was almost like a secret garden created a mystical atmosphere. Most trees had grown without being tended to very often, such that they stretched out over the pathways, close to forming a shelter.

Being the start of winter, the trees were partially coated with snow, the majority of their leaves having fallen to the ground. It was hardly possible to see the stony pavement below the piles of leaves that had been unsuccessfully swept to create a flat terrain. The sun peeks through some of the gaps between branches and snow, reflecting off the glossy surfaces of fallen snowflakes turned puddles on the ground.

“I haven’t been here before,” the former captain admitted, listening to the crunch of the dried leaves beneath his feet. “Had I known that this place was as empty as this, I might have come here more often.” Minutes after entering, they still hadn’t passed by any other people. As such, the whole place felt like it was _theirs_ , existing for the two of them. That thought put a smile on Kuroo’s face.

He looked to the side when Kenma didn’t respond, finding that the other was as absorbed in the environment as he was. Kenma held his hand out tentatively to the side, his fingers brushing against the few leaves left on the lower branches of some trees. The movement was enough to send a few bits of snow falling off the upper areas and onto the setter, earning a laugh from Kuroo. “...Kuro, can I ask you something?”

At Kenma’s sudden question, Kuroo slowed his footsteps unknowingly, which the younger male followed suit. Kuroo broke into a smile. “Yeah, of course.” His voice was quiet and he resumed his walking immediately after.

“...Do you enjoy college?”

There was nothing but the sound of leaves being crushed as Kuroo made an absent-minded turn, entering a narrow but paved walkway between two of the trees, just wide enough for the two of them. “It’s interesting, I guess,” he said, not exactly answering the question. “It’s part of growing up.”

The pathway was obstructed by a small river, one that the two could easily step over. But for some reason that neither could tell, the two of them stopped in front of it, movements in sync. The flowing came from somewhere further away which they weren’t able to precisely locate, and passed where they were before extending further into the forest, past some trees and making a turn until it disappeared. Kuroo took a quick glance at Kenma, then crouched by the water.

There were occasional splashes that got onto his ankles, though it didn’t bother him at all. The water was crystal clear, so much that Kuroo could easily see the riverbed beneath. A few tiny fish could be seen swimming around, avoiding the pebbles that disrupted the currents. Somewhere to the right, there was a drop in the water, making it look like a miniature waterfall. The water from the top blended smoothly into the part below, making no extra sound as the separate currents crashed noiselessly into each other.

Kuroo stared at the refracted surface under the water. From a rough estimate, the depth of the water wasn’t deep at all. In fact, it was so shallow that the college freshman could touch the sand on the riverbed without getting the part above his wrist wet. “It’s calming, isn’t it?” he said, dipping his finger into the water, trailing is to form ripples and watching the few fishes disperse into various directions.

There was a short pause and a shuffling sound before Kenma lowered himself beside Kuroo, humming a quiet response of agreement. He reached his finger out as well, retracting it momentarily as a fish swam by, but then touching the surface of the water. It’d been colder than he’d expected, obvious from his subtle shiver.

The two of them were silent for a while, playing with the once-still surface of the river, taking turns to laugh lightly. “Hey, Kenma?” Kuroo said, his finger hitting lightly against a rock, remaining before lifting off. He watched the droplets from the higher part of his finger flowing down, then collecting until there was enough weight to make the droplet return to the river below. “Remember that time we played at the river while we were supposed to be practising volleyball?”

“...Yeah,” Kenma replied, his voice barely audible, yet hiding a distinct smile of the fond memory. “And we got scolded for getting our clothes wet.” He submerged his whole hand inside the water, then withdrew it and flung the droplets at Kuroo, whose hands shot defensively in front of him but nevertheless smiled as well.

There wasn’t much else that had come with the question, other than a remembrance of the past, that to be honest, Kuroo was pleasantly surprised that Kenma hadn’t forgotten. He cupped a small portion of water with one hand, letting the liquid flow out through the gaps between his fingers, falling off the edges like a fondue.

Silence lingered in the atmosphere for a good few minutes.

Then Kuroo broke the fragile sound once more. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice in a rushed breath, and it’d have seemed that he didn’t want himself to be heard, even if a fraction of him hoped that Kenma had registered the words.

Kenma’s hand gradually stopped its motion in the water, and he pulled it back, resting his forearm on his knee and allowing any remaining water to either drizzle off or evaporate. “Kuro, I---” He cut himself off abruptly, as though there was something he’d wanted to say, but he’d changed his mind before the thoughts could’ve materialised.

Hearing that, Kuroo couldn’t help but worry that something was wrong. “You...what?” he asked, his speech coming out in a soft volume.

“...I missed you too,” Kenma finally said, his hands covering his face with his hands, only peeking through the gaps between his fingers as if what he’d just said was something he ought to be embarrassed about.

Immediately, Kuroo’s expression relaxed, then he let short-lived laugh. “You almost got me worried there,” he admitted, he himself not exactly sure why that had been. “I thought...” His voice faded off, his mind trying to string his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I thought you would say something else.” What ‘something else’ was, he wasn’t sure either --- only that he probably wouldn't have liked it.

Kenma sighed, audibly enough for the other to hear. He dropped his hands from covering his face, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his face, dampening them mildly in the process as he’d been touching the water before. “What else could I have said?” There was no accusation in his voice, but he did make it sound like Kuroo’s doubts were unwarranted. Maybe, they were.

The college freshman shrugged, racking his brains for a witty answer but not finding any good responses surfacing, thus keeping the serious ambience. “I don’t know,” he settled for a truthful answer, biting his lower lip gently as he tilted his head just enough to look at Kenma and gauge his reaction, which Kuroo found to be blank as the third year stared at the water that’d slowed to a still. “We’ve just been apart for more than I’m used to,” he elaborated, creating a rippled in the water with a finger, swirling patterns in the liquid.

Kenma’s attention left the river, returning to Kuroo. But despite the lack of a reaction, he’d heard the words. “Things have to change sometimes,” he said, quoting Kuroo’s earlier words and unknowingly sending a stinging feeling through the older male’s body. “But,” he continued, and the feeling in Kuroo’s chest started to waver in a hopeful sense, one that proved to be justified, “not everything has to.”

“Not everything has to,” Kuroo repeated in a whisper, as though trying to convince himself of the words.

With an affirming nod, Kenma continued, “What we had before, doesn’t have to disappear just because we haven’t spoken in a while.” For the setter to so freely express his thoughts was an unusual but welcome occurrence. Kuroo couldn’t help but smile, letting the words settle themselves in his mind and build an indestructible fortress around the warm feeling it brought along.

Seconds later, Kuroo finally stood up, watching the calmly crashing river waters return to their natural state, uninterfered by the two. “You don’t plan on staying here all day, do you?” he asked Kenma with a teasing smile, which the third year returned with a frown that conveyed no negative emotion. “We could continue down this path,” he suggested, tilting his chin in the direction of the walkway beyond the river. For some reason, his body didn’t feel so stiff anymore, and his mind had stopped throwing unnecessarily worried thoughts at him.

Kenma said nothing, only stood up while looking at the river below, then up at Kuroo. “Yeah, we could.” The path didn’t just feel like an area between the trees laid with small rocks and sand they could walk on, but it almost seemed to represent something that Kuroo couldn’t exactly figure out just yet.

Subconsciously, Kuroo held out his hand, waiting for Kenma to take it. And as the third year did, the two of them took turns to step over the river. All that was around were the trees, the clouds, and the sun, watching silently. There was a winding path ahead, subtle but such that the end was apparent and if Kuroo looked hard enough, he could see where the pathway merged with the main pavement of the park.

His hand remained in Kenma’s, even as the smaller male had a defiant look on his face. “Kuro,” he said, whispering as if the trees had ears, “there are people around.”

Kuroo chuckled lightly, his fingers sliding between the gaps of the setter’s. “Not here,” he said, the soft rustling of the leaves around repeating his answer in their own way. “And even if there are, it’s alright.” He heard Kenma huff quietly beside him, and a smile tugged on the corners of the former captain’s mouth.

“Let them watch.”

His words dispersed into the air, but not without the other hearing them despite their low volume. But Kenma held no sign of protest in his actions, following beside Kuroo and letting the peaceful environment overwhelm them in that remaining time they had left alone.

It didn’t feel so different from before anymore. Walking between the trees like this, memories of the past flashed in Kuroo’s mind. The rays of sunlight peeked through the gaps of the leaves, reflecting off the surface of the rocks on the ground and into Kuroo’s eyes.

(If he stared hard enough, he’d find that they were sparkling.)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this ;w; and feel free to drop a comment and tell me what you think
> 
> my tumblr --> ([x](https://etheryalwrites.tumblr.com/))  
> // hmu there is you wanna scream with me about haikyuu or kuroken or literally anything


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